Page 41 of Sinful Chains

Perfect start to my day.

Things got just a little bit freaky, but San was down. In fact, seeing how down she was, how comfortable she was, made the sex more intense. And that nut was extra strong.

I was getting hard just thinking about it.

I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down. The further I drove, the thinner the air felt. I inhaled deeply once again, feeling restless. Desperate. It was my mental state. I was on a mission, and I wasn’t going back home until I learned something.

The lodge came into my view just as the sun dipped below the horizon. Its silhouette sat small and dark against the lush green backdrop of the mountains. It looked the same as it did that night, rustic, cozy, and tucked away from civilization. The kind of place you go to escape. Or to die.

Jeremy McAllister had come here for both. And to fuck his sidepiece.

His ghost floated around in my mind, showing me flashes of that night, taunting me in my confusion, making this whole trip feel like a mistake. But it had to be done. For Rev. For my brothers.

For Santari.

I pulled onto the gravel lot and killed the engine, my eyes shifting from left to right.

My phone buzzed before I could open my door.

“Hey, Mama.”

“Hi, baby. What brilliant thing have you done this week?”

I chuckled at that. My parents really did have a false notion of who I am and what I do. They pictured me in a tweed blazer with leather elbow patches, glasses on my face and a pipe in my mouth while I worked on the latest groundbreaking journal article and shined my tenure trophies—of which there’s no such thing.

I never bothered to correct them with the mundane truth, which is this: accolades mean nothing to me. I enjoy shaping young black minds. Not the bureaucracy. Not the red tape. Not the publish or perish rat race that ages you in dog years. Simply put, ain’t shit glamorous about being a professor.

But Mama wanted a win, so I gave her one. “I got invited to a conference in Berlin,” I said. “And I'm thinking about petitioning to get the Omega house historical status.”

She inhaled sharply, then let out a squeal. “See! This is why I brag on you to the mother board at church.”

“Mama.”

“It’s true! Belinda’s son is in prison now, did you know that? And Ronda—“

“There but for the grace of God, right Mama?”

That calmed her down. “You’re right. I’m being judgmental.”

“Mm hm.”

“What else is going on?”

Well, let’s see. I’m in a four-way relationship with my dead frat brother’s little sister. I killed a man last week. I’m currently in the mountains doing research in the place we killed a man six months ago to see where I fucked up at.

No biggie.

“Just work. You know me.”

She sighed, and I knew what was coming next.

“And no, I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Her melodic laugh tickled my ears. I loved making Mama smile.

“Okay, but you know I’m not getting any younger. You’re past thirty, Storm. It’s time to start thinking about settling down.”

Yeah, it was time to go.

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